


Sophie

by flootzavut



Series: Lie to NCIS [41]
Category: Lie to Me (TV), NCIS
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Awesome Foursome, Crossover, Gen, GxK, Hurt/Comfort, Kate Lives, Lie to NCIS, crossoververse, foursomeverse, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: Kate asks Gillian about Sophie.Crib notes for the fandom blindhere.





	Sophie

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine regular readers are sick to the back teeth of my crib notes, so I'll just reiterate that they're available [here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/334084) and mention that Sophie was Gillian's almost-adopted-daughter whose parents changed their minds at the last minute.

* * *

_**Sophie** _

* * *

 

"Would you... will you tell me about Sophie?"

It's a big question - a huge question, really. It's something Kate's wanted to ask for the longest time now, but somehow it's never been the right moment. When it finally spills out of her mouth, though, it's not a calculated decision. The question pops up in her mind and she's asking it before she can think, before she has a chance to stop herself.

Gill blinks slowly, then looks away. There are tears in her eyes, and part of Kate wants to take it back. The last thing she wants is to hurt Gillian, to bring old wounds to the surface just to sate her curiosity.

There's a long silence. Kate's gotten good at not allowing silence to get to her - it's a necessary survival mechanism when it comes to Gibbs, after all - but this is an altogether different kind of silence.

After what feels like a really long time, she takes a deep breath. "Gill, you don't have to-"

Gillian glances up, startled, as if she'd completely forgotten Kate was even there. She looks sheepish. "I'm sorry, I just-"

Kate shakes her head. Rule six is one she personally thinks Gibbs can stick up his ass for all she cares - sometimes saying sorry is the exact right thing to do - but in this case... "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You certainly don't need to apologise." She reaches out to gently squeeze Gill's shoulder. "It's okay if you don't want to- if you can't talk about her."

Gill smiles wanly. "It's not that I don't want to. I just... I don't even know where to start."

"Anywhere. Nowhere." Kate touches Gill's face for a moment. "Whatever works. Or tell me to mind my own business, that's okay, too."

Gill shuffles along on the couch, and Kate instinctively wraps an arm around her and draws her still closer.

A shaky breath. "I remember she had such tiny, perfect fingernails." Gill speaks quietly, pressing her face into Kate's neck as if she's hiding, or maybe seeking comfort. "And beautiful eyes. Cal said she had my eyes." A damp laugh. "I mean, she didn't, she couldn't; she wasn't mine, not that way, but he still insisted it was true."

Kate smiles. It's easy to imagine Cal getting an idea like that in his head and refusing to budge. Or at least, it's easy in relation to Gillian; she's the unspoken exception to everything, as far as Cal is concerned. The only person besides his daughter who makes him sentimental.

There's another silence. Kate has the impression Gill's sorting through memories, although those she shares are an eclectic bunch, with no discernible theme.

"I painted the nursery pink and white. It was like walking into a marshmallow." There's a note of laughter there, just for a second. "Alec-" Gill's voice tightens up "-he thought it was too girly, too... I don't know. I said if he was willing to paint it, it could be any colour he wanted." She shrugs her shoulder, as if to brush it off, but it's obviously a painful memory. "So it stayed pink and white."

For a man she's never even met... Kate hasn't wanted to tear someone's head off so badly since Ari Haswari tried to kill Gibbs then almost killed her. (And Ari was a terrorist, for pity's sake, one she still can't think about without shuddering.)

Gillian, ever the diplomat, kind to a fault, never outright says anything bad about Alec, but it isn't hard to read between the lines.

(Not to mention Cal has a lot to say on the subject. He respects her not wanting to badmouth her ex, and won't betray confidences, but Kate knows enough of Alec's character and behaviour to be both utterly furious and very glad he's no longer a part of Gillian's life.)

Eventually Gill sits up again, and when she continues her voice is quieter but much less shaky. Kate is forever baffled and awed by Gill's reserves of emotional fortitude.

"There was a mobile, with butterflies, brightly coloured and sparkling. She used to watch it so closely. I didn't think newborns were so attentive, but she watched it as if she expected them to suddenly fly away." Gill smiles a wan, watery smile. "I don't know if you can really read wonder on a baby who's less than two months old, and I know every parent thinks their child is exceptional, but with Sophie... I'm almost sure." She blinks a few times, but it doesn't stop a tear or two from escaping down her cheeks.

"I took a teddybear to the hospital when we picked her up. Something to cuddle on the trip back to DC, you know? Just a soft little thing, with beautiful honey brown fur and a pink bow." She sighs. "When they came to get her, they almost left it behind, and part of me wanted to keep it, not to tell them, to keep it for myself, to remember-" she chokes back a sob "-but I couldn't... I couldn't make her go all the way back to Delaware without him." She shakes her head. "I hope her mom let her keep it. Something familiar... she was still so tiny. She cried and cried, and I wasn't allowed to comfort her and keep her safe."

"I'm so, so sorry." Instinctively, Kate moves her hand to the back of Gill's neck, rubs tiny circles. It's been a while since they last slept together, but Kate still remembers intimately how to comfort and soothe her.

"After... I used to touch her things, bury my face in them and breathe in her scent. Then one day Alec laundered all the bedclothes and onesies, took everything to Goodwill. He didn't warn me, didn't tell me, he just did it. So I didn't have anything left. Nothing she'd worn, nothing I could hold on to. I just came back one day and her room wasn't hers any more. As if she'd never been there." She shakes her head, like she still can't quite believe it. "I lost her all over again."

Kate's heart breaks a little more. Gill's grief is so raw still, so painful. Kate can't pretend she understands, can only listen and comfort. She'd have more clue what to do or say if Sophie had died. There's no blueprint for this kind of grief, for a mother who gave her heart completely to her little girl only to be told she didn't get to be a mom any more, who had to stand by and watch as her child was taken back to someone else, someone who'd changed their mind at the last minute.

Kate's always loved children, always assumed she'd have them one day, but she recognises there's a need some people have to be a parent, and she doesn't. Gillian was built to be a mom, aches for it, and Kate can't get her head around how so many women fall into motherhood by accident, effortlessly, whether they're any good at it or not, but Gill somehow missed out. It seems so wildly unfair, such a huge injustice.

"I'm so sorry," she says again. She reaches out to interlace their fingers. She wishes she could do more, offer more comfort. Wishes she had the right words to ease the pain.

"I still miss her."

Kate leans in, makes herself leave the gentle kiss on Gill's cheek. It feels inadequate, but she can't kiss Gill how she'd like, express her love and empathy that way. They've kissed a couple more times since the first lapse, but it's always been brief and accidental. No matter how much she thinks it might even help, it just wouldn't be right to do it on purpose, so she restrains herself even though it hurts to do so.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you talk about this."

Gill shakes her head vehemently, grabs Kate's face in both hands and pulls her closer. For one heart-stopping moment, Kate thinks Gill will kiss  _her_ , and has no idea if she should refuse or not, no idea if it would be necessary comfort or if she'd be taking advantage to let it happen, then their foreheads touch and their eyes meet. Gill takes a deep, shuddering breath, then another.

"I'm glad you asked," she manages eventually. "I mean - thank you. Really." Another wobbly smile. "When it happened, I needed to talk about it, but Alec... he wouldn't. Said he couldn't. Disappeared back into his coke and left me high and dry." She swallows audibly. "Cal was there for me, did his best. Still does, when I need him to. But it never goes away. I still want to talk about her sometimes, and not everyone's willing to listen."

Kate gulps down the lump in her throat. "I am. Whenever you need. Any time, okay?"

Gill smiles again, and it's no less painful but it's stronger now. "Thank you," she whispers, and pulls Kate into a hug. "Thanks, Katie."

Kate smiles at the pet name. "You're welcome, Gillian." She wraps her arms tighter around Gill and strokes her hair. It hasn't always been easy, this transition back to 'just friends,' but it's definitely been worth the effort. One of these days, she hopes, she'll figure out a way to tell Gillian how much this friendship means to her, but for now, she'll offer all the love and comfort she can.

_~ fin ~_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still organising this section of this verse, so some stories will be posted out of chronological order.


End file.
